LyraThe night unfurls its last threads of light when I suddenly feel the air change. Until now, the garden vibrated with muffled laughter, reassuring conversations, and soft music pushing away the shadows. Then a dull, metallic sound, a prelude to something bad: hurried footsteps on the lawn, low, hoarse voices, and that sharp crack that tears the evening from its sweetness.Everything rushes. Shadows emerge between the lanterns, black as ink stains. Hooded men, armed, appear without warning, breathless and precise. The first collective reaction is disbelief: we laugh, we think it’s a bad joke. Then the rifles are raised, the guns aimed, and the laughter dies in an instant.“Don't move!” shouts a muffled voice behind a mask. “On the ground, now! And you, don't make any sudden moves.”The guests collapse, chairs fall, glasses roll and shatter with a clatter. Screams, cries, whispered orders. I feel like the world is slowing down: the dress that envelops me, Alexandre's hand tightening
Last Updated : 2026-01-05 Read more